


From You

by preromantics



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:04:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Neal is a serial killer and Peter is a different sort of agent who will never really catch Neal. <i>There is blood on Neal's palms, running down in snaking rivulets to stain the crisp white cuffs on his shirt, rolled up below his elbow.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	From You

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly being expanded upon -- written for a prompt at comment_fic @ LJ.

There is blood on Neal's palms, running down in snaking rivulets to stain the crisp white cuffs on his shirt, rolled up below his elbow.

There's blood on Peter's shirt, too, the white cotton stained under the lapels of his suit jacket, where earlier Neal had pressed against him, tucked his hands in and just held on as Peter bit down his jawline.

"You're going to get caught," Peter says, low, standing with his shoulders straight and watching Neal check the windows, look down at the body across the room with distaste.

He looks up, grins quick and a little manic. "I haven't been yet," he says. He edges back over to Peter, light on his feet -- fluid, and fuck if Peter can never resist him.

"That won't last for long," Peter says when Neal gets close.

Neal straightens Peter's collar for him, leaves fingerprints of blood along the edges. He leans in close and drags his lips down Peter's neck. "You would have brought cuffs along this time if you planned on really catching me anytime soon," he says, lips dragging and voice running down to Peter's spine.

Peter closes his eyes -- he doesn't -- this isn't.

"There's a new shirt behind the mantle," Neal says, moving on past Peter's unresponsiveness. "It's from Barney's, it's nice. I got it tailored for you."

Peter nods. He has handcuffs in his pocket and they feel heavy against his thigh. Neal is pushing back his suit to unbutton his shirt again, fingers working deftly. Peter lets him take if off his shoulders, ball it up and tuck it under his arm.

"How much longer?" Neal asks, glancing around the room, pausing to stare at where there is blood soaking into the carpet, spreading out slowly.

Peter checks his watch, laying his own suit over his arm, chest bare under Neal's exploring hands. "Five minutes, tops," he says. Neal has to leave -- he can't be caught, not yet, and Peter definitely can't be caught with him.

("Are you going to kill me?" Peter had asked, the first time, shoulders up and defiant. He was an agent -- he wasn't going to let some serial killer murder him, and Neal had laughed and ran two fingers down Peter's chest and leaned in to kiss him.

"Of course not," Neal had said, "I like you too much.")

Neal walks them backwards towards the mantle and Peter flips them around, pressing Neal up against the wall and kissing him hard with his eyes squeezed shut, not thinking of anything but Neal's skin, his lips, his hands.

Neal groans into his mouth and presses up and back but slips out from under Peter's arm after a minute. "Find me next time," Neal says, reaching behind the mantle to throw Peter's new packaged shirt at him.

"Next time when?" Peter asks, almost thinking about cataloging it and making it something the agency can use -- could actually catch Neal preemptively with. He knows Neal won't tell him where he'll strike next for that very reason.

"You'll know," Neal says, face lighting up with a smile. There's a bit of blood on his chin -- from his hand or from somewhere on Peter's body, Peter doesn't know.

Neal darts out the door and it shuts quietly behind him, leaving Peter with only a minute to change, to make up another story about no one being in the room, to order his agents to go after Neal, even when he knows they'll never catch up -- not until Peter catches Neal himself.


End file.
